


Canadian in Trouble

by narikopathfinder



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anger, Blood, Duty, Eventual Romance, Family, Fighting, M/M, Russian Mafia, Stress, Violence, Yuri!!! on Ice Shit Bang, Yuri!!! on Ice Shit Bang 2017, figureskating - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:38:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11953155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narikopathfinder/pseuds/narikopathfinder
Summary: Yuri is torn with keeping his heritage a secret to the rest of the world. If it was known he was the nephew and sole heir to Moscow's Mafia. It could ruin his career as a figureskater. On the other side of the world, a large debt hangs over the Leroy family, unexpectedly their eldest son. Has been chosen as merchandise so the family's debt can be paid.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It is finally here! This is my contribution to Yuri on Ice Shit Bang 2017. While these chapters may seem few, I do plan on continuing. As a part of a series in the near future, you will get the second part to this. Once my life is a bit more stable. Many, thanks goes to NinjaMatty who has helped me through the early stages when this was just an idea inside my head. And pushed me to write this. I was paired with an artist for the SB and to my great surprise, it was none other than otabekismybff! Lucky for us that we know each other and her artwork for Canadian in Trouble will make its appearance in future chapters.
> 
> Now enjoy Reading!

Slim winds clamoured up along the walls of a concrete wall that had seen its better days. Just enough for the elongated nails to screech within the chipped corners, clouds and city smog intermingled as the familiar deluge of early spring descended upon the pedestrians. 

 

Merely pulled up their high collars of their coats, to shield themselves from the winds picking up from the Moskva river. A black cowl was a faint contrast against the grey scaled wall, a long tunic inspired coat half connected the cowl around the neck. Were strands of blonde hair framed itself along the edges of the crisscrossing seams along the fabrics shaping the old fashioned hood. 

 

The temperature grew colder and even someone accustomed to the city of Moscow would yield to a quivering gesture of slightly cold shoulders. A pair of pale ears twitched absently by the recognisable hammering echoes of a baby blue Trabant 601. Slowly making itself known along the nearly hidden side entrance, of the skating arena. 

 

The engine of the vintage Trabant huffed in appreciation as its engine slowly came to a stop. Vibrant green eyes glanced cautiously to the left, then another wary gaze to the right. No suspicious activity on either side, though it never hurt to be careful. The click of the vintage Trabant door. 

 

Brought the green eyes to the forefront to meet wizened grey eyes, one sixpence hat at top grey and brown tresses. A common brown coat and evenly brown shoes, fitting the weather, though the older man appeared to not be bothered with the cold chills swirling around their corner. 

 

And a wry yet welcoming grin made its way along the furrows of the older man's features. Out of habit he expectedly held out his arms. The younger cowl covered blonde pushed away from the distant moistened concrete wall, gravel underneath the rubber sole of well-worn shoes played about with the pebbles. Taking into a few quick sprints, the younger of the two was caught in one firm hug. 

 

_ "Dedushka..." _

The blonde murmured happily, he felt little need to be loud though it was a tad difficult to not be excited. It had been awhile since he had met up with his grandfather after all. 

 

_ "Yura...you have gotten taller since I last saw you?" _ The older man said with a teasing smile, and to see the quick change of a resembling pout to when the boy had been some ten years younger. 

 

But it did not have that much of an effect now, well maybe a little…

 

_ "Dedushka..I'm already 18, so of course, I have gotten taller !?"  _

 

The younger blonde argued as a rumbling amused laughter escaped the older man's lips. 

_ "Oh, Yura...how I wish...we could have met up for more cheerful news. But I had to warn you, this would concern your colleagues as well. If their rumoured plans actually see t _ _ he light of day... _ _ "  _

 

The  hug tightened around the younger man's waist, as his grandfather's voice grew sombre. The Severity of the news allowed green eyes to furrow in confusion. 

_ "Ded'ka...I know you would not say in a text...are mum and dad alive?" _ Grey eyes widened and made certain to quickly shake his head. 

 

_ "No, no, no Yura, Agata and Filip are doing quite well, I went to see them at the clinic just yesterday." _ One weather worn hand familiarly patted over the blonde hair strands hidden partially by the cowl.

 

Green eyes scowled with a clear message that he was obviously too old for this kind of gesture. Even if it calmed down his worries just a little, allowing his shoulders to slip out of the tension that had coiled itself in between the shoulder blades.

 

_ "You said...it might affect my colleagues too? Then it can't be one of Uncle Dima's....Uncle would never. What exactly are these rumoured plans?" _

 

The younger blonde muttered absently as his eyes darted toward left and right. After such information, it was better to stay cautious. 

 

Quietly tentative as Nikolai laboured with one heavy sigh. And began to indulge his only grandson with further details. 

 

_ "Yuri...it was one of Dimitri's spies that came out of their way to warn me, now I have already informed your parents and they are making their own precautions. Seems like some of those who are not happy about the Pakhan's recent involvements. The rumours...say that a few Bratok from other factions plans to do something damaging to the Figure Skating World Championships, being held here in a few weeks. Targeting some foreign figure skating delegation, to damage Russia and Moscow's reputation....but exactly who? of your international colleagues, they plan to go after. I cannot say Yura."  _

 

The younger Russian clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the longer sleeves brushing against each other's seams. As their occupied arms were crossed up against Yuri's upper chest in thought

 

_ "Tch, I'll have to warn them somehow. Viktor will understand, Yuuri will have the common sense to listen to him. But the others..." _

 

_ "Yuri, you know that Dimitri will increase the security around his family and that includes you too,"  _

 

Nikolai muttered soothingly, while he placed a hand upon his grandson's left shoulder hoping that it would register. Only to have the older man's hand shrugged off in defiance. 

 

_ "No!? Ded'ka...I can hold my own if something were to happen. I can't risk it...my career will be over...if a journalist or reporter only by chance see a hint that I'm somehow involved...." _

 

_ "I know Yura, I know...I'll pass on a message to Dimitri, and tell him to not increase the security around you. We all agreed to this when you said you wanted to continue skating on the ice Yuri. If you can warn your colleagues. We, will take care of the rest alright? " _

 

Reluctantly there was not much more the eighteen- year old blonde could do except warn his colleagues of the possible threat to their participation in the coming world championships. Nikolai caught his only grandson into one lasting hug before they parted ways. The vintage Trabant coughed and whirred with disappointment, at being reignited again so soon. But it had to obey its owner's directions.

 

Rubber soled shoes echoed inside the vacant hallway, venturing toward one of the many sideway entrances into the large arena. Sea-green eyes scanned its surroundings, one curious glance to the left. As those blue eyes fell upon a black cowl. Coming into view as one of the sideway doors opened with a resistant screech against the hinges. A faint smile traced along the facial features of Georgi Popovich, he had barely recognised the familiar outline of his old rinkmate. 

 

_ "Yuri there you are, how did it go with your ded....?" _ Georgi had tried to call out. 

But the younger blonde had a brooding scowl creased over his vibrant green eyes. 

 

Not to mention he went straight passed Georgi without as much of a glance of recognition. Sea green eyes blinked in confusion until the older man's legs briskly set up the pace, to catch up with Yuri. Georgi's hand grasped across the peculiar black cowl fashioned jacket.

 

Adding a sneaking pressure against the younger blonde's shoulder.  Figure skating routines were not all that had been added to Yuri's memory, there was crawling presence near his shoulder. 

 

_ /Danger!/ _

 

Where the immediate thought supplied as the words of his grandfather echoed inside the eighteen-year - old's mind. 

 

Yuri's upper body turned to meet the intruder near his personal sphere. The finger's on the younger blonde's left hand, adding a vice like pressure against the wrist close to his shoulder. And a swift ninety-degree angle, allowed Yuri's right hand to hook his arm at the elbow joint.

 

A surprised yelp escaped the intruder's mouth, sea-green eyes wide until they realised their mistake. _ /How could I forget something like this....Yura has always been jumpy once, we interrupt while he is focused on thinking. / _

 

Applying pressure, against the intruder's back an insult ready at his lips. Vibrant green eyes blinked and refocused. He found that Yelp awfully familiar. 

 

_ "Ack!?...Yura....that hurts...oww..."  _ Georgi could not help but whine, the younger blonde had certainly gotten stronger. 

 

At least with the flinching pain travelling up his arm.  _ "Wha...Georgi?" _ Yuri questioned in confusion as he instantly released the hold of his old rink - mate. 

 

Hurriedly holding down his own hands, blonde hairs curtaining over his facial features. _/What is wrong with me?_ _Georgi has never been a threat to anyone...well except when he was competing./_ The younger Russian's mind supplied. But this was Georgi, he was trustworthy and still somewhat apart of the eighteen- year- old's skating family. 

 

_ "Sorry...Georgi..."  _

 

_ "Don't think about it, Yuri. I should not have held onto your shoulder when you were so deep in thought. Still, think you will be able to go over that routine with Mila?"  _ Georgi queried, and he was given a faint nod in return.

 

_ "I'll get changed and meet you two at the ice,"  _ Yuri answered a bit gentler than usual. 

 

Before he turned on his heel toward the changing rooms.  _ /I can focus on practice for now. After however...I need to think of a plan.../  _ The younger blonde pondered more to himself.

 

Clouds drifted lazily across the darkening sky. The accumulating grey hues shifted and rumbled. A thunderstorm was approaching, it would not be the first time this city had faced such challenges from malevolent weather spirits. 

 

Shifty eyes followed a pair of people one woman with short black hair and blue eyes, a man a little taller walking beside the woman. But this man's eyes held a darker blue depth, a shaven undercut and a bit of a mess of mostly black and a few subtle hints of dark brown shades. 

 

One easy grin made its way along his lips and smiling down at the black haired woman, while she hugged his arm.  Those shifty eyes huddled further into the old-fashioned alley. Cracked bricks along the walls and grime from the contaminated rain. 

 

Leftover exhausted had marked its way along the bricks and just beside a few trashcans. A perfect hideout for someone up to no good. That pair had stopped in front of a shop window, a delicate finger lacquered in red nail polish. Pointed at something on display. 

 

_ /With those eyes that young man will fetch quite a price on the black market. Almost a pity his parents will not have a clue what struck them... a debt will be paid./  _ A sneer flickered into the usual stoic features of the stout observer in the alley. 

 

One particular disturbance in the pocket was an untraceable phone, aged fingers gone through a few mishaps in their time. Clutched around the phone and pressed the green button to accept the call. 

 

_ "Da? " _

A particular male voice coarse in its pronunciation. 

 

After far too many years of smoking. _ "Branko...you have the merch in sight?"  _

 

_ "Da, he's a looker. But...from what our brothers have mentioned. Jean-Jacques Leroy.....must be broken in." _

 

_ " Our branch in Moscow said they would handle it then we share the profit. Too bad I can't be there when they begin his training"  _ An obscene accented chuckle resounded until a faint beep confirmed the end of the conversation. 

 

Across the street, JJ gave a visible shudder. There was something not right and his best friend's blue eyes gave a quizzical glance. 

 

"You alright JJ?" She asked, only to receive a faint shrug and a sigh. 

 

"It is probably nothing Isabella..." JJ hurriedly replied. 

 

Isabella frowned and brought her red lacquered nails against her best friend's earlobe and pinched. 

 

"Ow! Bella...what was that for?" 

JJ whined mournfully while he rubbed his ear, been far too long since he had earned himself this kind of pinch.

 

Isabella raised one elegant black brow expectantly. 

"You Jean-Jacques Leroy are hiding. You are lying to me. We have known each other since we were 14. And for god's sake JJ, I was your fiancee!? Do you have that little faith in me? " 

Isabella hissed. 

 

She was not one to become easily angered. But was now absolutely seething, Jean could not recall seeing her like this. They had been friends for nearly a decade. Then their friendship had evolved into something new. 

 

It had been so right at the time but they soon realised. That did not work out as well as it should have. And now three years later they were still best friends. JJ rubbed the shaven portion of his neck nervously. 

 

/Can never hide anything from her for long./ He absently reminded himself as his shoulders sagged with an unknown burden. This seemed to only make Isabella, even more, frustrated as the black-haired man. Allowed a heavy sigh to filter through his lips, dark blue eyes looking into Isabella's own bright blue eyes. 

 

But then JJ hurriedly averted his gaze, before he continued to hesitate, JJ truly tried to first say what was on his mind. His blue eyes warily glanced along the busy part of Old Montreal, despite the threat of that thunderstorm. 

 

People were outside doing their shopping with ease, it did not stop. 

 

The gold medalist of Canada's figure skating nationals. To feel like his normal confident self, JJ gave a morose sigh and whispered just low enough for Isabella to hear. 

 

"Not here Isabella...I'll ...ugh...I mean...let's talk at my place ok?" 

Isabella visibly frowned now. /This is not like him at all...he just won gold at nationals. Shouldn't he be happier?/ The black-haired woman pondered.  Once her hand went to hold JJ's, he squeezed it like a lifeline. 

 

Branko still kept himself in the aged alley hidden against the brick wall, a tongue flicked across yellowed teeth. Calloused fingers fumbled after a rather out of date notepad. 

 

Then a liquid ink pen scratched along the small pages marking a swift line across, the list which went no further than four a half note pages. 

 

_ "Debt to be paid in the Leroy's oldest son, next stop, ahh....that woman has not paid her rent in two months. Better get going..." _

 

Branko gruffed as he shuffled behind the narrow alleys of old Montreal. 


	2. Chapter 2

The door rattled open to a decently sized flat. Hardwood floors in darker hues and cream coloured walls softened the impression as a quarter of the lower wall. Matched the hardwood planks on the floor. After taking off their outer coats JJ stiffly settled down onto one of the burgundy coloured chairs. Near an oval coffee table, Isabella frowned though she did take the chair next to JJ. 

 

"Now care to tell me?" the Canadian-born woman queried a bit softer. 

 

"My parents told me. That about ten years ago, they borrowed money from the Russian mafia here...in Montreal. And some days ago they were told they would collect their debt, but never said how much my parents owed them. " 

 

JJ slowly began to tell what he already knew, but ever since his parents had told him. It was this intuitive sense of foreboding. Telling the twenty- two- year- old national gold medalist. To be on guard. 

 

"Let me see if I understand this....Your parents are indebted to the Bratva?" 

 

Isabella questioned with furrowed black eyebrows, her mouth thin as she mulled over this new revelation. 

 

Though glancing over at her best friend's posture, which normally would be full of confidence. Looked now insecure, Isabella had to admit it was unsettling seeing JJ like this. /I haven't seen him like this since that Grand Prix Final in Barcelona. Back then it was performance pressure. But now...it's about his family./ 

 

"Ye...yeah...they are.I never knew that we struggled that much. And when they told me, they had accepted money from the Russian mafia..." JJ admitted, all the while he unintentionally interrupted Isabella's train of thought. 

 

Fair ears tuned in to listen and decided to be silent for now, though there was something she had to ask.

 

"So, what are you going to do about it? " 

 

Isabella queried, watching as JJ shook his head. 

 

"I don't know, mum and dad said not to think about it. As it was their debt and nothing to do with me and my brother and sister, that I should just focus on the world championships in Moscow...But how can I? When...I have this...this...dark, cold bundle in my stomach. That tells me I can't leave this alone?" 

 

JJ groaned as his hands combed through the black tresses of the upper half of his hair. Isabella nervously pressed her lips together, watching the tension build up along JJ's shoulders. She leaned closer and chastely brushed her lips against his cheek. A wary set of dark blue eyes, slowly calming down the nervous storm. 

 

"You know I'll always have your back JJ if you feel like there is something else going on. Then I trust you on this, but you have to talk to me you hear? Even if it is just before a skate or in your hotel room." 

 

Isabella muttered sternly only to receive a nervous laugh from JJ. "You do know, there are seven hours time difference, between Montreal and Moscow?" JJ queried as a small smile tugged at his lips, having Isabella to talk too, helped more than he realised. It did not take long before, his earlobe suffered the familiar pinching ache, from Isabella's sharpened nails.

 

"Ow..Isabella.." JJ whined only to get a pointed look from his best friend. "Of course I know JJ, not the first time I could not come with you to competitions." 

 

Isabella huffed, then one entertaining idea settled into her mind.

 

"JJ....we are going to eat pancakes with syrup!" She decided and bounded off her seat and went straight into the kitchen. Turning half an ear to JJ's protests. 

 

"But Isabella...! If mum finds out I ate pancakes so close to worlds she's going to force me into repetitive figures. You know how boring those are!?" 

 

Isabella grinned as she tilted her head back and looked at how her best friend should behave. "What Nathalie does not know, will not harm her. Besides it is only for today, we both need some don't you think?" Isabella remarked loftily. 

 

JJ frowned but then decided to yield to Isabella's logic. The practice was done for the day after all, and he did not have to meet up on the rink until tomorrow morning. 

"Well, when you put it like that Isabella how can I refuse..." JJ admitted as he went to help Isabella in the kitchen, but soon JJ was met with a whisk dripping in pancake batter.

 

Awfully close to his nose. "You go shower." Isabella threatened absently with the batter covered whisk. "But...I wanted to help you, Isabella." JJ tried to reason with her though it seemed Isabella had made up her mind. "Jean-Jaques...get in the shower while I make us pancakes. Now." Isabella rarely used his full name and he cringed at the tone, while he obediently went to shower. 

  
  


The hotel was bustling with activity. Rarely was Moscow's biting winter months, a common hive for tourism. But this season it was something different, this year the city of Moscow hosted the Figure skating World Championships. It was a huge investment, but also a boost to the local economy of the city. Being close to the chosen arena rink had been beneficial for this hotel.

 

The staff had experience with figure skaters in particular. More than once had they been the preferred hotel for those chosen to participate in the Rostlecom and at times even Russian figure skating nationals. It was in this very hotel with somewhat worn red and gilded interior, if one gleamed a glance just behind the corner of the two elevators. 

 

The Hotel's lounge was available and ready to appease the needs of their guests. 

 

The lounge itself could possibly have been deemed outdated at best, but it was a relaxing atmosphere and worked perfectly for the contingent of competitive figure skaters huddled in one of the corners of the lounge. A black leather sofa group, four seater sofa's on each side of a long coffee table. Each seat occupied and even the armrests. 

 

Viktor and Yuuri had claimed an armrest and the cushioned leather seat, Beside the pair, sat none other than Phichit animatedly chattering with Kenjiro Minami, who had become the new Ace of Japan after Yuuri's retirement last year. Leo de Iglesia was seated beside the younger Japanese figure skater. His legs lazily conquering nearly two seats, it had been a long flight and the energetic Latino. 

 

Would have more than happily succumbed to a few more hours of jet lagged sleep. But here he was among his colleagues and planning a group sightseeing around the Red Square in the older part of Moscow. Across from Leo, JJ had chosen his seat. Blue eyes trying to focus on the huge old fashioned map over the city of Moscow laid out on the table. 

 

Slender fingers trailed over the map as the murmurs of the other skaters halted. Yuri pursed his lips in thought, fingertips brushing against the fragile map.

 

/I have to try and tell them...but will they understand. I doubt.../

The younger blonde, thought frantically until the fingers drummed against the coffee table. 

 

"I know that you lot wanted to go sightseeing. Before we do that. My grandfather mentioned that it is not safe for foreigners to wander off. Especially not these days..."

 

Yuri let out a soft sigh while his vibrant green eyes watched some of the raised brows from his colleagues. "How can be so sure that only foreigners are targeted and by who? It's not that uncommon is it..?" 

Phichit questioned somewhat confused, he had, after all, spent quite some time in Detroit over the years. And the idea that only foreigners would be targeted sounded, strange to the twenty-three-year old Thai figure skater. 

 

"While common theft is not unusual this is...according to my grandfather the workings of the Bratva," Yuri responded tersely, he knew he might have expected too much of his colleagues but one glance to where Viktor and Yuuri were seated. 

 

As the former 5-time champion snaked his arms protectively around Yuuri's waist, to the surprise of Yuuri who had been comfortable sitting on the armrest up until now.

 

"Yura, are you sure it's them, the Bratva?" 

 

Viktor asked. His posture stiffening significantly. Before Yuri could answer another question came forth. 

 

"What is this Bratva? You and Viktor sound overly cautious about even mentioning them." 

Leo quipped, his head cleared. And then he heard the murmured response from his Canadian rival. 

 

"...It means Brotherhood Leo, but you might know of them as the Russian Mafia.." 

 

JJ allowed the answer to slip from his lips watching the surprised green eyes of Yuri Plisetksy. "Did not expect you to know that JJ" 

 

Yuri remarked and a familiar smirk tugged at his lips. The black haired Canadian absently shrugged his shoulders. "Montreal...have a history with them." 

 

The older Canadian's voice was kept low, so no out of the ordinary attention could be drawn towards the group.  

 

Blue eyes furrowed in thought as that smirk, created swirling coils of warmth inside JJ's stomach. Observing how the younger Russian's blonde tresses, went no further than to the neck. A brief glance towards green eyes filled with amusement and a hint of curiosity. Only a few seconds passed before the black-haired Canadian had to tear his gaze away. 

 

/What am I doing!? Did....I just...gawk over Yuri Plisetsky?/ JJ questioned his own train of thought, but had to agree that Yuri had matured handsomely. 

 

Yuri at the corner of his eye observed how JJ’s gaze seemed to memorise, the contours of his facial features. To the point that the younger blonde, could feel the warmth clamouring up his cheeks. 

 

"Anyway, it would not be a fair world championship if any of you lot suddenly. Got injured, or couldn't compete if you happened to stagger into the claws of the brotherhood. If we stay in groups, it will be more difficult for them to try something..." 

Yuri tried to make his point clear, as evenly as possible. This earned a raised black brow from Phichit, his dark eyes noted. That not many had picked up on the uncharacteristic words leaving the younger blonde’s lips.

 

"Ohh Yuri, I did not know you cared so much for our well-being!" 

Phichit exclaimed while tilting his head back and a lilt of his tanned wrist against his forehead. In a dramatic pose. 

 

Victor chuckled beside Phichit, while Yuuri all too familiar with his former rink-mates antics. Was able to keep his mirth, behind a warm smile. Kenjiro and Leo were not that fortunate, as they bubbled with laughter. JJ tilted his head the side watching the faint embarrassment making itself known across the younger teen's cheeks. 

 

Yuri clicked his tongue and stiffly shrugged, as the indifference of his Russian Punk mask made itself comfortable upon his features. 

 

"Tch, whatever, just wouldn't feel right to take the gold medal. If you lot did not show up."                              

 

Yuri glanced up at the grey skies until his gaze followed their gathered group. A faint smile tugged at his lips as Phichit, pulled Kenjiro with him toward a statue. Luckily the younger blonde's familiar cowl would help hide it from view. Allowing the temporary cover to let his eyes wander towards a grinning JJ. 

  
  


Yuri's heart thrummed at the sight, warm tendrils slithered its way along the younger Russian's torso. But there was something different about this grin.It could not compare to JJ's more normal confident smiles, this one looked strange. 

 

_ /Something is bothering him..../  _ Yuri pondered as the twenty-two - year-old Canadian gave a faint wave and pointed at Leo. The Canadian's legs walking further up the shopping street, _ "That idiot, I told him to not wander off on his own."  _ Yuri groused, he exchanged a look with Victor's blue eyes. 

 

Tilting his head towards JJ's retreating back. A faint nod of acknowledgement from his former rink-mate. Yuri turned on his heels and followed after the older Canadian. JJ had struck up a little chat with Leo, as they had looked at some of the shops around the square. 

 

"Hey, JJ you are not nervous about the World Championships are you?" Leo questioned.

 

JJ was quick to shake his head. "Wha? No...not at all Leo. What makes you say that?" 

The Canadian muttered with furrowed blue eyes. 

 

/I can't let Leo know about this./ JJ's inner psyche absently complied, while Leo shrugged his shoulders and mumbled low enough to not be overheard by the others.

 

"You....just...seem tense..it's not like you at all."

 

"It's nothing serious Leo, just thinking of gifts for my mum and Isabella, maybe I'll find something for my sister too."

JJ's lie tumbled out of his lips, even though it was a fairly legit excuse. Though Leo frowned, as JJ had slowly begun to walk away. 

 

"But we were supposed to stay together, Yuri said it was not safe to wander off alone." 

 

Leo protested dark blue eyes smiled cheekily as JJ temporarily turned around and walked backwards and called back at Leo. 

 

"Don't worry Leo! I won't go far." JJ promised while his body returned to a more forward pace. 

 

The shopping district in this part of Moscow was filled with high-end brands. He wanted to look for a small gift for Isabella. If he were lucky to find something for his mother's birthday. 

 

"Maybe a necklace...or a bracelet." The Canadian muttered under his breath, blue eyes glancing inside shop windows. 


	3. Chapter 3

At the end of the shopping street, a pair of  Russians was headed down into the hood of a sleek grey car. One looked outright lanky. With the wispy brown hair and a newly trimmed beard. Hazel eyes furrowed and the man's mouth curled into a snarl.

 

_ "You really think this is going to work? The pretty boy cannot possibly be that green? Would he?"  _

 

The one with his head stuck under the hood, hands appeared busy. Dust and exhaust grime eagerly attached itself to the suit trousers, that unfortunate chalk white dress shirt had suffered blotches of oil from the car engine. A faint sigh escaped the man's lips and gave his brother a frosted mint glare.

 

_ "We have our orders, or you want to take it up with the Captain?"  _

 

Came the gruff retort, and the younger of the two merely shook his head. Blue eyes saw the two men heads down under the hood of the car. Shifting his gaze first to his left and then to his right, the street was fairly empty. And those that were working in the nearby shops did not seem inclined to help them either. 

 

/I knew Russian's were cautious but this is ridiculous./ JJ thought as he walked up to the two men.

 

"Hello, trouble with the engine?" He queried and could not, help but forcing down a cold shiver that ran down his spinal cord. 

 

As frosted mint green eyes collided with his own gaze. 

 

"You know to fix this engine?" 

The older man questioned in heavily accented English. 

 

"I can give it a try." JJ offered with a smile, though there was a wary feeling at the back of his mind.

 

He was given an affirmative nod from the grime covered Russian with those mint green eyes. JJ stepped up closer to the car's hood and bent down to look at the engine and its surrounding parts. A waft of heat brushed against the young Canadian's cheeks, blue eyes frowning in thought.  

 

/Almost as if the engine was just recently turned off...but why would they stop here? It is at the end of a shopping street./ JJ, pondered while his fingers tilted against tubes and wires. 

 

The lanky Russian softened his footsteps, sliding around the back of the car. Hazel eyes darkened to molten gold, one strike against JJ's neck.The younger Canadian's vision grew hazy, a soft groan escaped his lips.

 

_ "Well done, Nika. Now for the final hit so we can tie him up." _

The older grime clad Russian sneered in their mother tongue. 

Nika gave a nod as his right foot connected with the pressure points under JJ's knee caps. Forcing the disoriented Canadian figure skater to crumple under the pressure applied. 

 

_ "Kazimir, you have the rope?"  _ Nika asked,only to receive a rumbling response as the rope was thrown towards him. 

 

Nimble fingers pressed the arms behind their owners back. And tied a secure knot around the younger Canadian's wrists. Blue eyes tried to regain their sight, but a flash of cold mint green eyes was the last he saw. Until a bag was tied around his head. JJ's body thrashed against the restraints of the ropes holding his arms. The iron grip around his legs did not make it easier in the attempt to flee. 

 

Minted green eyes glared from the corner of a shop. Toward shady figures struggling to lift the older Canadian into the car. Yuri crouched low while the younger Russian's feet curved against the cobblestones. As his right hand slid down toward his ankle, a thumb rested against the cold metal handle. 

 

Fingers curling around the metal pulling it out of its sheath, there was now a medium knife in the blonde's right hand. One familiar snap of the wrist and the knife blade eagerly revealed its sharpened edges. Yuri bounded across the cobblestone covered street. 

 

" _ Oi, mudak!? _ Get your disgusting hands off him!!?" 

 

The eighteen- year- old figure skater shouted partially in English only to let his temper run through with a decent Russian insult which caught the two criminals off guard. As the blonde hunched his shoulders and made sure to elbow the hazel - eyed Russian in the ribs.

 

The sudden shock pressured the air out of the lanky criminal's lungs. Kazimir briefly wondered who this crude brat was, who did not have the common sense of all the shop keeper's along this shopping street. To turn a blind eye to their not so very legal attempt at abduction. 

 

Abruptly Kazimir's eyes widened as a flat hand, dangerously threatened. To slam against his weather-worn facial features. The older man instinctively tried to avoid the damage, only to get the brunt impact of Yuri's other elbow instantly forcing its impact against Kazimir's shoulder. 

 

As the older man's body tumbled onto the cobblestones below.The two criminal's groaned at their brusque misfortune. JJ had staggered himself to a halfway support against the sleek grey car. The dizziness had faded, and he could remember the brief seconds before the sack had been tugged over his head. 

 

/Yuri's green eyes./ JJ had thought. His ears had perked up at the hurried footsteps across the cobblestones, and crass language filtering through the younger Russian's lips. 

 

Had kindled something inside JJ. The sack around the Canadian's head did not give the best view, but it was enough holes. To watch his rival jump between the two Russians forcing them to lead their focus elsewhere. 

 

_ "Sookin syn!" _

 

Nika uttered maliciously, between breaths. While consciously shielding his tender ribs, molten eyes glaring at the younger blonde. 

 

_ "Get out of here brat. This is none of your business."  _

The lanky criminal tried to convince. Only to be met with a piercing vibrant green glare.

 

"Actually....ublyudok. JJ happens to be my business." Yuri remarked haughtily. His cowl had been brushed away by the criss crossing winds during the sprint. To reveal his wild blonde tresses, the criminal before him was taken aback. At the attitude, that the younger Russian so confidently showed without a hesitant flinch of fear. 

 

/Who the hell is this brat! Doesn't he have any common sense.../ 

Nika frantically pondered. 

 

Kazimir had managed to get back onto his feet and grabbed a hold of Yuri's left arm. 

"Listen, you little...!" The older criminal groused in heavily accented English, Yuri's back arched at the restraining move. 

 

Absently letting his pocket knife slide into his right hand, hidden by the sleeve of the younger blonde's jacket. As his body curved with the agile poise of a ballet danseur. Created the perfect opportunity, for the weaponized hand. In a crescent curve, cutting down into the first layer of skin, a faint twist of the wrist and the incision went into the second layer of skin. As the blood vessels wept in protest. 

 

_ "Getting slow old geezer?" _ Yuri taunted smugly. Green eyes brimming with a feral glee at the sight of the trails of blood.

 

_ "Yob tebye suka! Nika take that brat too!" _ Kazimir roared in rage; as the hidden blade grazed into his cheek, caught off guard and by habit he tried to stop the bleeding. That now slithered down the furrowed rows of wrinkles, slowly dribbling along the ledge at the older man's chin. 

 

Nika was not certain, what to believe the fact that he and Kazimir.

Had so severely underestimated what appeared to have been just another common teenager. Ears twitched with anticipation at the last order, their young assailant did not have eyes at the back of his head after all. 

 

The wispy haired brunette glowered, his fingers struck the nerves connected the younger Russian's balance. Yuri groaned as his sight swivelled sideways, the knife clattered against the blood drops on the old cobblestones. 

 

JJ did not know a lot of Russian that much was clear, but from what he could observe from his position against the car.

 

/Who knew...Yuri could fight like that.../ The older Canadian pondered. JJ was able to pick up a few words that sounded like insults, but he could not be fully clear on the actual context.

 

The stumbling weight against his side. JJ tilted his glance down to see a mop of blonde hair and a heated breath against the nape of his neck. Kazimir and Nika realised they were out of time. They best scurry away before the police caught a whiff of the struggle. 

 

Making the same knotted work of restraints over the younger blonde's wily arms.Kazimir leered at their two targets, lazily swinging Yuri's knife in his hand. Until the older criminal slashed a jagged uneven cut through the jacket. 

 

Yuri hissed as his own blade slit into the third layer of skin of his upper arm. The two figure skaters were then shoved into the back of the car, Yuri being shorter than JJ was. Pressed against the grimy back seat floor. 

 

JJ winced as his head slammed against the opposite car door. Door's were slammed shut, as the brothers started the car and drove steadily further and further away from the sight of the abduction. 

 

Clouds gathered with murkier depths across the sky, above a lonesome sleek grey car. The engine rumbling to make the vehicle move toward its destination. Soon enough slabs of water and hail, peppered onto the metallic chassis of the unfortunate car. 

 

The echo snuck into the car. Keen hazel eyes roamed over the prone bodies, in the back seat of the car. Not much movement except for the low and high rise of their chests, still alive for now. Wispy brown tresses coiled alongside a furrowed forehead while gazing down at an unconscious blonde teen. 

 

A deep gash across the younger Russian's upper arm, if one looked closer there was still a sedated flow of blood escaping from the boy's body. 

 

_ "Did you really have to cut into the brat like that Kazimir? He's going to bleed all over the car..." _ Nika morosely complained to his older brother. 

 

And the one in charge of driving the car toward its destination. Kazimir clicked his tongue, a swift cold stare before the very same eyes returned to the road.

_ "It was fair payback...the little bitch cut into me first. And our brothers in Montreal never mentioned, that their merchandise would be with friends. When coming to Moscow. Not like we could have left blondie in the street, and then he could have tattled to the police...by now wouldn't he?" _

 

Kazimir griped matter of factly toward his younger brother. 

 

_ "I don't know Kazimir, I feel like I have seen blondie and our brother's merchandise before..."  _ Nika muttered just loud enough for his partner in crime to hear. Only to receive a frustrated sigh in return. 

 

_ "Of...all the ignorant!....that merchandise is JJ Leroy, you know the reason our associates agreed to this. Is because it connects perfectly with our plan to give Moscow a poor reputation as a host for the figure skating world championships."  _

 

Kazimir lectured knowingly before he took a slow breath and remarked lastly.

 

_ "As for that snarky little blonde bitch, would be Yuri Plisetsky...I did not anticipate that he and Leroy were more than rivals." _ Nika listened with half an ear, as he suddenly knitted his brows in thought. 

 

_ "Is...not that I'm ignorant...just, the brat's eyes...feel like I've seen em before..." _ Nika muttered thoughtfully. The conversation fell silent as both Bratva members focused on their destination.


	4. Chapter 4

~2 Hours Outside Moscow;~  

 

A Warehouse stood quaintly alone among crumbled storage buildings which had long since been taken over by mother nature. One sleek grey car drove up to the aged warehouse. Two Bratva members stepped out of the car and nodded to each other. The passenger seat door opened and each of the criminals carried out one hostage each.

 

"Where are we?" JJ tried to ask, only to receive a firm punch to his stomach, courtesy of Kazimir which leered down at the merchandise. As he tried to regain the air that had been pressed out of his lungs.

 

"Bastards!" Yuri spat venomously.

 

As he tried to slide the feet under the lankier man that held a firm grip around his bound hands.

A sudden jolt of pain shot up through his shoulder. Yuri hissed as the sting made the wound on his arm throb with more blood vessels trying to close the wound.

 

Green eyes caught a glance of the lankier Bratva member's finger now covered in blood, his blood.

/Did he just stab his finger into the wound?/ A groan slipped through his lips until Nikita firmly grabbed a hold of Yuri's chin.

 _"Such a pretty face, yet such a vile mouth. Going to be a tough time getting you ready."_ Nikita said with a smirk crossing his lips. _"_ It will be fun to see this body of yours on display. Once you have been tamed… that is.. _"_ Hazel eyes examined closely as Nikita allowed his words in accented English to sink in.

 

The bloodied finger smeared a blotch across Yuri's cheek, he had to suppress a shudder at that gesture.

 

 _"Stop playing Nika, we need to report to the captain, considering the change in our plans,"_ Kazimir grumbled.

 

Yuri was glad once his chin was free of the firm grasp. JJ frowned and could not really understand why these people would act so openly vindictive.

 

He wanted to voice his opinion, but once he saw what they had done to Yuri, JJ's blue eyes flinched it looked painful and his rival barely flinched.But there was something inside him that wanted to stop, the lanky Russian from looking at Yuri like that. JJ furrowed his brows thoughtfully as a chill ran along his back. As the heavily accented English words settled inside his ears.

 

/No, they can’t be serious! I already figured they were after me, but why are they dragging Yuri into this.../ There was nothing he could do now, he had no fighting experience.

 

Unlike Yuri who seemed to have some kind of training. JJ had hoped his younger colleague would be able to still hold his infamous glare toward their captors. But the wound in the younger boy’s arm must have put a stopper to the usual spitfire. JJ and Yuri were more subdued their upper bodies hunched over. Head’s kept low against the ground, and strong hands in a vice like grip over their binds.

 

And they were firmly navigated toward the lonely building that had seen its better days. Forcing their hostages to move inside the warehouse, down a corridor they went. Dull colours on faded heavy steel doors, the corridors stretched out into a crossroads.

 

One of the metal doors was dragged open and they were shoved into what could have been used as a storage room back in its day. Two narrow windows up on the wall, but the sunlight barely shone through.

 

And a pair of shrubs had grown close to the window. Kazimir and Nikita did not waste time as they brought out chains from a cardboard box in the corner. Locking the cuff shackles on JJ and Yuri's feet.

 

The chain was securely attached to the cement wall. Giving the two captured figure skaters some semblance of freedom. The steel door closed heavily and the thudding echo filtered into the small storage room.

 

             

 

The steel door closed heavily and the thudding echo filtered into the small storage room.The walls were moist from the rain or simply had grown more brittle with age. A body shuddered with tremors, one shaky cough lips quivering with pain.

 

Green eyes shifted toward the aged steel door. Yuri tilted his head toward the edge of his sleeve. Teeth tore against the long t-shirt that still clung to the injured arm, tearing the strip of cloth away and circled itself around the crimson rivers slithering along pale arms.

 

"Need to stop this blood flow..." Yuri gritted his teeth in annoyance. As the finger that had poked right into his nearly closed wound. Had not helped, only resurfacing with the throbbing ache.

 

Those green eyes narrowed in on his rival hunched over, where the two Bratva members had chained the Canadian to the opposite wall. Blue eyes which usually shone with confidence looked lost, tousled black hair with one shaved undercut. It was unusual to see JJ this quiet.

  


"How would I know that?" JJ muttered.

 

A sigh filtered through his lips as his blue eyes glance over Yuri. Holding his gaze on the flesh wound on the younger Russians arm.

"Idiotic JJ...I specifically told you to not go off on your own!...And you do exactly that...I thought I was clear about the dangers at the hotel. The Bratva does not take kindly to those who venture into their territory."

Yuri accused.

 

"Just thought they needed help with their engine..." JJ supplied with a shrug of his shoulders and winced at the cold tone Yuri gave him.

 

"Engine trouble..? Seriously JJ that is one of the oldest tricks in the book!" Yuri remarked incredulously

 

"And I don't remember yelling for you to jump in either Yuri?"

 

JJ found the expressions changing along with his blonde's rival's facial features. Yuri's shoulders shrugged and a faint trace of pain stretched over his lips. JJ, could not remember when he had last seen Yuri Plisetsky openly worried.

 

JJ shifted and the chains rattled against the floor, as his legs moved across the room.

And he sat down beside Yuri.

 

"What were you thinking? Would have been easier to call..."

 

JJ questioned though when he was about to suggest, Yuri was quick to cut him off vehemently shaking his head.

 

"No! It wouldn't...they can't get mixed up in this, not with The Bratva..." The eighteen-year-old furrowed his eyes and glanced at how much closer JJ was now.

 

/Those two idiots can't be all that sharp. But this room reminds me of some of the stories ded'ka used to tell me stories about when I was younger. Warehouse hideouts...we have to be outside Moscow, and by the state of this place. No one's used it for twenty odd years. And then there's JJ, he must have figured out some things off by now. But I can't tell him I jumped in because I...I...like him? At the very least that Kazimir and Nikita haven't figured out...who I really am. That would be a whole other heap of trouble. /

 

 

Being distracted by his argument with JJ. And then drawn inside his own thoughts, Yuri had forgotten the strip of cloth, he meant to wrap around the wound. The younger Russian's grip around the torn cloth was not strong, sliding his fingers gingerly against Yuri's hand, clutching around the piece of cloth. JJ leaned closer as the cloth firmly wrought around the wound. That brought Yuri out of his thoughts, the wrapping of the cloth made him wince. Especially since his wound had been reopened. Green eyes glanced into those dark blue depths, /He's too close!/ Yuri.

 

JJ tried to give his signature public smile, but it became more of a grimace.

 

"You didn't have to do that JJ. The wound would have closed in a few hours."

Yuri mumbled matter of factly, although the throbbing ache did not feel as bad now.

 

"You didn't have to stop me, from being abducted. When you could have gone for help, Yuri... you jumped between, them and fought. You even landed a hit on that older one. And with such a small knife!"

 

The black-haired Canadian muttered thoughtfully, then he absently licked over his thumb and brushed over the younger Russian's cheek. A faint blush settled, and the thumb wiped away the blood.

 

"Because I couldn't let them take you, JJ!" The younger blonde bit out.

 

The chains rattled against the concrete floor as JJ sat beside him again. He was surprised by the answer, blue eyes looked over the defiant gaze but in those green eyes showed something else. A vibrant green embrace. JJ could feel a tantalising warmth crawl up over his cheeks, his heart drumming against his chest.

 

/What is this...? It can't be that I...like Yuri? Only because, he jumped in and tried to save me?/

 

JJ leant closer to get a better look at Yuri's flustered cheeks, although he seemed a bit flushed himself.

 

"Why Yuri?" JJ queried and it had him puzzled at how easily Yuri seemed to deflect his questions.

 

Yuri shook his head and averted his gaze toward the floor as he muttered. "Can't give you that answer now JJ...., besides...I overheard those two speaking on the way here. They called you *merchandise*...and something about working together with their brothers in Montreal? They took you because you are paying for a debt..."

These filtered words into JJ's ears, and he flinched. At the mention of a debt being paid. Suddenly those green eyes were looking back up at him. A nervous chuckle escaped JJ's lips.

 

"I don't get it, Yuri....how you can know so much about the Bratva. And know exactly what they are talking about....but yeah, it seems they chose me as their payment..."  

 

Yuri listened and tried not to respond so easily to how he did in fact know. He might not have been raised in the middle of it. But his family still had spent a lot of time as Bratva, Yuri was bound to pick up certain things even if his grandfather had raised him.

 

"So...did you loan money from them? Or was it...your parents?" The younger Russian asked in a low tone.

 

"My parents, I doubt they even considered that...something like this would happen.," JJ replied and a crooked smile curved along his lips.     

**Author's Note:**

> I have used some Russian words in this fic more for emphasis. Though I will give a small dictionary of sorts below.
> 
> Bratok - Soldier (a low rank within the Bratva)
> 
> De'dka/Dedushka - Grandfather
> 
> Mudak - Bastard
> 
> Sookin Syn - Son of a bitch
> 
> Ublydok - Bastard
> 
> Yob tebye suka - Fuck you Bitch


End file.
